


Galilee

by MooseFeels



Series: In the Garden of Your Love [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Garden!verse, Mild Angst, gardener!dean, teenage!castiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Galilee

Castiel continues to stand as he and Sam talk. 

Their chat is extensive and brilliant and bright. It happens that they read the same books, that they enjoy the same branches of science. They're equals, and now that Sam has made it so clear that he's okay with the...whatever it is between Castiel and Dean, they talk easily to each other. 

Dean has just begun to feel left out when Sam yawns and Castiel copies him. 

"Shit," Dean murmurs. "Go ahead and get settled in the bedroom, Sam, I'll pull a towel for you."

Sam shakes his head. "I'll be fine on the couch," he says. "Really. You and Castiel can take the bedroom."

Dean shakes his head. "We'll be fine," he answers. 

Sam rolls his eyes. "This isn't one of your stupid honor things, Dean, this is a matter of pure geometry, okay?" 

"Wherever it is we'll be," Castiel interrupts, "I need to wash off my feet." 

The wet mud has long dried, forming a thin brown dust. He wiggles his toes a little, experimentally. He looks back up and smiles at Dean.

Dean's never seen him look so young. 

"Go ahead and get in the shower, Sam," Dean directs. "Cas and I will get him cleaned up."

Sam nods, hair flopping, and ducks into the back of the house. 

Dean and Castiel watch him go. Dean points down, and the couch. "Sit," he says. "I'll be right back."

He goes to the kitchen and grabs the biggest bowl he can find. He fills it with warm water and grabs a dishtowel. He grabs them both and heads back into the living room. 

Sam starts the shower just as he kneels down and begins to cuff Castiel's pants. 

"What are you doing?" Castiel asks. He sounds terrified. 

Dean looks up at him, and he remembers something he learned from a handful of Sundays spent at a smattering of churches. 

"You know Jesus washed the feet of his followers," he says. He's not sure why he says it. He's not sure why he's doing this. He guides Castiel's left foot into the warm water and gently scrubs the dirt away. 

He finishes the left and begins to work on the right, working quickly but gently. He finishes that one, too,  and dries them on the dishtowel. 

Castiel leans forward as Dean looks up, and they rest their foreheads on each other. They are dizzyingly close. They are frighteningly far. They are like two stars, suspended in a constellation. 

"Dean," Castiel whispers, and written in that word is something boundlessly full and huge. 

"Dean," he repeats. "Dean, I love you." 

Dean reaches up, runs his hair through Castiel's hair. Spills the bowl of water on the floor. Wants to be so close to Castiel, wants to be beside him forever, wants to hold him, wants to keep him safe, wants to show him the world. 

And the only thing Dean can say in response is, "I love you, too."


End file.
